


The Feigned Relationship

by SosearchingRomeo (Breakingthestandards)



Category: Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic (Roméo Productions Asia Tour 2018) RPF
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 17:39:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15224348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Breakingthestandards/pseuds/SosearchingRomeo
Summary: Mercutio proposes Tybalt to pretend to have a relationship with him to stave off marriage proposals.Prompt fill.





	The Feigned Relationship

 

AU: [@by-the-virtue-of-the-muse](https://tmblr.co/mEEmK19FRj9Pdx6QUCBysVg), you asked, I serve. This is the non-checked, first part of your prompt which I am desperate to fill. There will be more. Characters are inspired by the 2018 Eyzen and Turconi. 

* * *

 

**1**

 

* * *

 

A cooling breeze made its way through the hot summer’s air. It was a welcome touch to Tybalt’s cheek, like a cooling hand laid down upon his skin, caressing him. He had closed his eyes and enjoyed his peace and quiet, knowing such moments were tender and rare in the city of Verona. It was because of this relaxed stance in which he sat, legs folded on the ridge of the low marble wall that ran past a row of detached houses, that he heard the sounds before he could see the culprit. He didn’t even need the shouts of his men to tell him. He heard it by the sounds of the shuffling of shoes alone.

In a smooth motion he held up his hand, his finger pointing at the blue sky above them. They were seated in the shade of the tall buildings, hiding from the hot summer’s sun, even as it was already well on its way to set. The gesture was intended for the men and women who were with him, a clear signal for them to be quiet and to let the intruder pass.

“Mercutio, what are you doing here?” He asked the question before he opened his eyes, but he knew he had been right. And even as he saw Mercutio’s twisted smile he could not help but feel powerful. Here he was sat, quietly, almost as if he was meditating, in Capulet territory, and his nemesis approached.

Well, nemesis was perhaps too harsh a word to use. Mercutio was, if anything, supposed to be neutral. At least this was the message the colours of his purple clothes tried to convey. But the young man had a tendency to ‘kiss’ too many Montague arses, and Tybalt disliked him greatly for the way he consorted with the blue-clad clan. In his mind, Mercutio was as a Montague, just as bad for always joining their side and pestering the Capulets. So yes, for Mercutio to be cautiously approaching him, a lopsided smile upon his face like he was a child who had done something naughty but tried to maintain an air of innocence – and failing at it – it felt like a victory. Mercutio was on Tybalt’s grounds, had to comply to Tybalt’s terms and was in no other position but to submit to him.

Divine.

Tybalt made no effort to jump from the ledge. His eyes maintained focused on Mercutio’s face as he approached. The other Capulets around them eyed the two suspiciously, but they made no move. And once the young man had come to a stop in front of Tybalt, the latter clicked his tongue.

“I wonder why you grace me with your presence. It’s getting tedious.”

Mercutio let out a loud laugh, head thrown backwards and long strands of hair cascading down his back. It would have looked even better, Tybalt mused silently, if the other wouldn’t have worn his hair in a ponytail but loose. It would have cascaded like a curly river.

“You truly are a courageous captain of compliments,” Mercutio said with a forced grin. Tybalt noticed the odd expression on the young man’s face. He had noticed it from the moment he had opened his eyes. Something was off.

“Call off your men,” the demand by Mercutio came unexpected and sounded sharp, and Tybalt straightened up, sitting fully alert in front of him.

“Now, why would I do that?” he asked, but Mercutio’s smile had faltered and instead the young man narrowed his eyes.

“Send them away,” he merely stated, and Tybalt figured he better not question the Escalus heir any further. He complied to the other man’s wishes, waving his men away. They reluctantly obeyed but eventually, one by one, they vanished from sight. Tybalt waited till he could see the last of them disappear. And Mercutio in front of him waited with the same patience. His eyes were cast at the floor, several feet away from Tybalt, and his hands were curled into fists but twitched every now and then. He must be nervous, the Capulet thought to himself, and then averted his own gaze. They could hear the footsteps of the Capulet men and women leaving, some hesitating, other’s swift.

When they were alone, Tybalt raised his head and looked at Mercutio. He sought the other man’s eyes but it took a few seconds before the latter had tore them away from the floor and met his gaze.

“I am here for you,” Tybalt said once their eyes had locked, and he could see how his words affected the Escalus heir. Mercutio’s brow rose. “Now what can be so important for you to venture into enemy terrain without your usual broad smile and sickening jokes? And on your own, by all means.”

Mercutio did not need a second to think. He replied swiftly and with style: “I need you to be my fiancé.”

The world suddenly stilled.

“What?” Tybalt thought his ears must be deceiving him. But when he looked at Mercutio he saw how earnest the other man was. Mercutio’s brows were drawn downwards, a crinkle appearing between his eyes, and his gaze had darkened. The young man’s lips were pressed into a thin and determined line.

“I want you to pretend you wish to marry me,” Mercutio clarified, face like stone, bereft of any expression.

Now this could not be, Tybalt thought, because although Mercutio seemed to shag everything fixed or loose, the young man clearly hung out with everyone _except_ for him. Hook him up with any other Capulet and people might believe it. Hook him up with any Montague and people would believe it. Benvolio, very believable. Romeo, not an option any longer but also very believable.  _Hell,_  even Juliet and Mercutio would have been a thing if it would still have been possible – if Juliet had not gone behind their backs and was not now pregnant with Romeo’s spawn. But Tybalt Capulet? Impossible.

“This is by far your worst joke yet,” the Capulet replied through gritted teeth. He ran his gloved hand past the back of his own head, ruffling the short hair as the motion soothed him. But Mercutio gave no sign of wanting to leave or so much as sway, and he started to fear that the other was sincere in his proposal.

It was no secret that Mercutio was getting older and had now reached the end of his twenties, a respectable age for a man to get married. Tybalt knew how it felt. They differed only a year and he too had felt the pressure from those around him, family and friends, who wondered when he would settle down. If ever.

“Is the ground getting too hot under your feet, Mercutio?”

“I need it to be someone who is important,” Mercutio started his peculiar reply. He did not say yes, but his phrasing confirmed the other man’s suspicions. “Someone of another house such as the Capulets so it will confuse them. And my uncle would have to contemplate it, because he needs an alliance with the Capulets, especially after the way Juliet has left Paris dangling at the altar.”

“You are out of your mind, Mercutio.”

“I would ask you again, but this is not a request but rather a command. I am telling you that you will pretend to be my partner. We have marriage plans. You asked me, and I agreed.”

Startled by the request, Tybalt jumped off the ledge and came to stand in front of Mercutio. He straightened his spine and tried to intimidate the other by eyeing him down. But Mercutio did not budge nor did he blink.

“Why on earth would anyone believe that I asked you?”

Now that they both stood the difference in height between them became obvious. Mercutio was a head shorter than Tybalt, and the Capulet used this to his advantage, towering over the lad as much as he possibly could.  But Mercutio, as always, was not intimidated.

“Why would they not? Half of Verona is wanting to bed me.”

“Touché,” Tybalt replied, knowing of the many admirers the other man had. “But wouldn’t you rather ask Gianna?”

At this, Mercutio flinched. “What? No.” One of his brows quirked and Tybalt had to suppress a smirk. “Why would you even think that?”

“Well,” the Capulet retorted cheekily, but there was an underlying hint of something else there - envy? jealousy? -  “I thought you wanted that with the way you’re always dancing with her.”

That shut the purple-clad man up. Mercutio’s brows furrowed as he pensively stared in front of him. He was known for dancing around the street, flirting with anyone in his vision. He had not really paid any mind to who he danced with in the street or at the balls. Then, a smirk slipped on his face. “I know, she’s pretty to look at and a good friend.”

Tybalt rolled his eyes but the other had already continued, “But that is not the point. Tybalt, I need this to be you.” And as he said it, Mercutio’s hand had shot out and curled tightly around Tybalt’s. The young man’s eyes locked with his and there was a need in them, a deep, indescribable need for Tybalt to say yes and play along. And perhaps this was something the Capulet had always hoped for; to have Mercutio on his knees, begging him for his help, completely surrendering. He realised he held the power now, and, taking pleasure out of his new role, he grinned at the Escalus heir.

“All right,” he ignored Mercutio’s small ‘yes’ of victory and felt how the young man’s hand left his own. But he wouldn’t let him get away that easily. Before Mercutio could retract his hand fully, Tybalt had already grabbed him by the wrist, capturing him and his attention. Mercutio looked up into his eyes with question. “But there are a few conditions I have to this. And you’ll agree to them if you want me to play along.” Tybalt’s smirk had turned malicious and Mercutio frowned in honest concern.

“What are they?”

“One, I am the master in this relationship. If we do this properly, I am the Lord and you are the Lady, so to speak.” Mercutio protested at this point, but Tybalt squeezed his thumb into the young man’s wrist which reduced him to wincing. At least the noises of protest had been batted down. “Two, we will act as if we’ve been in this relationship for years but kept it all quiet because  _you_ were worried about what it would do to your uncle’s reputation. You knew he wanted a heir to provide heirs and thus you were the one who pushed us to keep quiet about this.”

Mercutio bit his lip but quieted down. He gave a short nod, agreeing to Tybalt’s suggestion. It was a believable excuse, even more so now that Mercutio’s brother Valentine had revealed his interest in one of the high-ranking ladies from Venice. His uncle’s worry to receive a heir had vanished in recent days. It seemed Valentine had not been able to keep it in his pants and a marriage between the two was on its way, probably held at the nearest convenient date.

“Three,” Tybalt continued.

“What, there’s more?” Mercutio asked, eyes bulging. Tybalt just tightened the grip on the boy’s wrist again, having just loosened it during his second demand.

“Three, you will address my family, and any other Capulet, with the utmost respect. I won’t have you monkeying around in my uncle’s mansion. He is to be your father-in-law, in a way, so you will address him with respect. I won’t tolerate you picking on my friends any longer. And if you so much as demean any of my close friends, well, we will just have a very harsh talk about it. And remember, you will have agreed to be the bitch in this dog relationship so you will have to bend the knee to my every command. What I say goes.”

Here he paused to look at Mercutio, who was staring pensively at him through his long lashes. Luscious a sight, Tybalt thought, and suddenly a fourth term came to mind.

“And four,” here he finally let go of the crushing grip he had on Mercutio’s wrist, giving the young man his freedom back, “if anyone asks, I am on top,” here he couldn’t help but snicker softly, “unless I have ordered you to ride me, of course.”

Mercutio recoiled from him, uncertain whether his opponent, now fake lover, was serious. When Tybalt didn’t start to laugh, he figured he was. “Fine,” he placed his hands on his hips and tried to stare the other down. “I agree to your terms. I shall spew many a good tale about your  _grandness_ , your majesty.” He exaggerated a bow, mocking his former nemesis.

“Don’t you start with me now, Cutio,” Tybalt’s words sounded threatening and he pointed a gloved finger at Mercutio along with it.

“What?” Mercutio chirped in faked innocence.  

“Calling me a prince or a king,” Tybalt said through gritted teeth, “of the you-know-what. I won’t fall for it, not this time.”

Mercutio merely huffed but waited to see what the Capulet swordsman would do next. Not much, so it seemed. The man in red looked at him as if he awaited a cheeky retort. But when nothing came he held out his hand. “Shake on it,” he said, “submit your soul to your personal devil.”

It was lucky for both of them that they stood unobserved, that none of the Capulets had thought to return yet. Mercutio stared at the hand offered to him for a moment, then slowly moved his hand to be placed in Tybalt’s. But the latter caught him by surprise, capturing his hand just before their palms would have touched, and quickly using the hand he had offered to take the dagger from his hip. Mercutio hissed loudly when the blade slid through his palm, cutting the soft skin open and inviting blood to gush forth. He looked up at Tybalt in disbelief, his eyes wide and pupils blown.  But Tybalt seemed unaffected by the sight of blood. He was working almost mechanically, taking off a glove of his own and running the knife past his own hand to create a similar line, though not as deep as Mercutio’s wound. Then he pressed their palms together. Their fingers tangled.

Tybalt tucked the blade away and used his free and gloved hand to press against the small of Mercutio’s back, pushing the young man flush to him. Their carved hands were still joined and Mercutio hissed at this, at the pain, at the sensation. With gritted teeth he looked up into Tybalt’s eyes, and noticed how the other began to smile at seeing his pained expression.

“My, my, such a wonderful creature you are. Insane, without a doubt, to place your life in the hands of your enemy and ask him to pretend to be your lover.”

When Mercutio didn’t speak, Tybalt continued, but his voice lower now, a deep whisper as he bend his head forth and brushed his lips past Mercutio’s cheek. “I forgot to tell you though……. I don’t do  _pretend_.”

Mercutio’s eyes flew open wide, but it was already too late. Their pact had been made.


End file.
